


Journal Entries

by Adaney



Category: Homestuck
Genre: POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:36:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28954332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adaney/pseuds/Adaney
Summary: A clown's journal, or a brief insight into someone who no longer exists.





	1. Chapter 1

#  1

This is the journal of Arlyne Raedam. I don't want to call it a diary because I don't think I'll be complaining much here, and Eburka told me that no matter what I call this it’s good to have an outlet. 

I don't really believe her but she's a counselor for a reason. I don't think I'll use this that much.

Tonight is the night I turn 9. 

#  2

I'm 10 now. I said I'd write something to appease Eburka. It helps that I have something to actually write about now. I went through my trials last year before being “admitted” to the troupe E. oversees. There were discrepancies between what I experienced and some of the others. 

I can't say that I'm surprised. I'm not as fanatical as the rest of the sisters and I never really liked the Priest. I guess they decided I needed to suffer more to earn the right to my clubs than some of the other acolytes. I can't even say there's anything wrong with that, but maybe it's because there's something wrong with me.

Hamond seemed to know about this before I shared it but said nothing. 

#  3

I spoke to Hamond today. She's nicer than most of the other trolls here if you could call it that. She doesn't go out of her way to socialize with the rest of us but at least she spoke to me. That's more than I've been able to get out of her in the 4 perigees I've officially been here.

#  4

Undill set me up with one of the contortionists today. I explained that I probably wouldn't be a good fit due to my height, but he just told me to go through the training anyway, because I, “Needed to contribute to the continued wellbeing of the group,” and some other blowhard bullshit. Just because I'm not in a fucking act doesn't mean I don't do anything.

I'll go through the damn training if I have to.

#  ???

The wind is like a beast howling, waiting for me to lower my guard so that it may end me. I would be lying if I said it didn't make me uncomfortable. Being the way that I am now should be easier in time.

#  ???

I don't remember what I was before. I don't remember who Arlyne is.

#  ???

My name is Artessa. 

#  112

Maybe I should feel scared.

I remember I don't feel fear. 

Maybe I should be worried. 

I remember that the gnawing sensation in my insides is more than my imagination. 

Maybe I should pretend that I'm the monster I should be. 

Maybe I should pretend that I'm incapable of the finer points of feeling. 

Maybe I should hide the way she made me feel when she left across an ocean to drown in my memories of her for an eternity of a lifetime.

These thoughts are a waste. I cannot do anything. I cannot be something. I cannot act on nothing. 

I cannot exist in this in between state of loving and not loving with a fear that she will look me in the eye as though she's seen me for the thoughts I struggle with; as though I am my very wicked nature and as though I haven't spent my time trying to will myself to the point of saying her name. I've said her name. I've carved her name into my mind so thoroughly as to not forget, and I have scripted her name on these pages like a word with no equivalent. I only wish that she could say mine. 

#  113

I remember who I am in the form of the girl who came before me. Her name is my name, her body is my body, and her voice is my own. Her history is my past and my actions are her future. She is my gracious host and I am the worst thing to have ever happened to her.


	2. Trying Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before you were a voice in a multitude you met someone. How did it end?

Shionn is odd. The little things about her have added up over the course of the few hours you've known her. You're too used to picking out the lies and tells of the trolls in your troupe not to notice all the ways she tries to hide and how rarely she faces you directly.

Your skin crawls and you feel as though your ears will bleed from the interference of your powers. There's the ever present bleed over where you can't decide who or what is a treat, how to react, and how much force to apply. Sometimes your choice is ripped from you by the unpredictable force of your voodoo. It's why you stop and start so often with your words and still yourself just for the chance to think straight.

It's the reason why you've been spilling ink across paper for the last few hours as you watched Shionn out of the corner of your eye. Some part of you is frightened. Another part of you realizes this is just part of the indescribable strangeness you've experienced once before. For now you'll close your journal and hope you're alive to pick back up again when all is through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An entry from some roleplay I did back in the day, better served here than sitting in drafts.

**Author's Note:**

> Context? Something something "my soul has been devoured by a great beast and my being subsumed by a piece of what was"—or, my body is now inhabited by but a sliver of some godly entity, and boy I'm now trapped in my own body. Basically horrorterrors. I put thought and effort into the character back in the day but I hardly remember a thing now years later.
> 
> They're a clown.


End file.
